Drown

8. Bright and Bloody

He lets out a shocked sound and then his hands slide around my back.

I'd never kissed anyone before, so it was awkward and too hard-his teeth knocked into mine a little bit and the angle was off. Our noses collided.

He pulled back, breathing hard.

"Is that-okay-"

"Yes," I say.

"It's okay-?"

"Yes," I say quickly, and he leans back into me.

It's better this time, even though we're both shaking. I'm scared, but then our lips part and my fear goes out like a snuffed candle. He groans and it makes me gasp into his lips, like he's switched something on.

We kiss like we're animals. I need oxygen. But there's teeth and biting and licking and really -

Oxygen can go fuck itself.

He bites my bottom lip and pulls on it, and I'm undone.

"Do you want to-"

"Yes," I gasp and it scares me. I would give him anything. I would give him everything.

He grabs hold of my hand, and his chest is heaving. We leave. We shouldn't have, because work. But we leave.

And then we're running, and it's exhilarating and I'm laughing. His hand is crushing mine and I feel so fucking good.

I'm laughing so hard that my running is slowing and he is grabbing me up, quickly, kissing my teeth, kissing my cheek, my eyelids that had closed in my laughter.

We kiss, once, a long beautiful pause, and start running again and the beach is in sight.

Our feet keep kicking up sand and it's sticking to the back of my calves.

"Oh god," he says. "I can't believe it. You're so beautiful."

He stops right as we hit the shore, waves kicking up onto our feet. This part of the beach is empty.

"Ready, pretty?" he asks.

I'm staring, gasping, remembering.

I'm ready.

"Yes."

He kisses me, and we knock noses, but it doesn't matter. His hands cradle my jaw.

We pull off our shoes, and splash in until we're waist deep.

We jump in.

* * *

The first time I've been drunk in my entire life is because of Josh.

Well, sort of.

He's fifteen, but somehow gets his hands on raspberry flavored rum. And it's terrible. It tastes like what nail polish remover smells like.

I came to Vince's, expecting for him to be at work. Sometimes I just watched TV on his back porch. Josh was there, drinking. He winces after each pull of the bottle.

"What are you doing, crazy?" I say. He smiles at me, braces glinting.

He tips the bottle towards me, and laughs.

I sit across from him, and take it from him, putting it on the table.

"I think you've had enough, now. You're super underage, Josh. And you're super drunk," I say as I watch him stare at the TV, smiling.

He laughs again. "Carolineeeeeeeee-"

"Come on," I say and heave him up, crutches and all, "Where'd you even get that?"